


Who Says You Can't Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

by mokuyoubi



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Awkward Sex, Bottom Nigel, First Time Bottoming, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Spacedogs, Spacedogs Appreciation Week, Top Adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mokuyoubi/pseuds/mokuyoubi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Adam misses fucking someone, instead of being fucked. Nigel isn't sure how he feels about that.</p>
<p>
  <i>Nigel has been called many things in his life, but never a coward, and never a quitter. (At least not by anyone who survived the encounter). It means something to him to maintain that reputation, even if no one other than Adam and himself will ever know.

So, anyway, practice makes fucking perfect, right?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Says You Can't Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

**Author's Note:**

> For [LazyBaker](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker), who requested "Spacedogs prompt! Nigel trying to get Adam to try new things in bed (whatever that kink may be)" 
> 
> So I got this prompt twice (thanks to a glitchy tumblr) and I decided to do two different versions--one where Adam does the prompting of new things, and then there's one with Nigel getting Adam to try new things is coming up next! Not exactly a kink, but I hope it's close enough :D

Until Nigel, Adam hadn’t really thought a lot about what went on between gay men in bed. He’d understood the logistics in a purely academic way, but he hadn’t had any particular interest in anal sex with women and had never attempted it. He’d certainly never imagined having it performed on him, let alone thought it might be something he’d enjoy. As such, there was no reason to research any further.

He’s since learned mostly through practical experience with Nigel, which has explained all he really needs to know about how it works and how much he sincerely does enjoy it. He just doesn’t quite understand _why_ some things are the way they are. In the pornography Nigel likes to watch, for example, there is always a top and a bottom, whose roles are fairly inflexible. And he’s observed that, generally speaking, the bottom is more effeminate and smaller in stature.

Between Nigel and himself, the roles were established immediately, and for the most part, Adam has no complaints. Nigel is a skilled and considerate lover. He always attends to Adam’s needs, whether he wants Nigel’s hands or mouth or cock, whether he wants to make love slow and tender, or to fuck fast and rough.

The only thing is, there isn’t a significant difference between the two of them in height or size of genitalia, and Adam isn’t exactly clear why he was relegated to the role of the bottom. Sometimes he misses sex with women--not, necessarily, the give of their hips and breasts, or their soft cheeks and lips. Nigel’s sharp angles and firm muscles are very appealing to him, and the drag of his stubble against Adam’s mouth, or the tender skin of his inner thighs, never fails to send an almost electric sensation through Adam’s gut. 

No, as much as he enjoys being penetrated by Nigel, what Adam misses is the unparalleled sensation of pressing into the yielding heat of his partner’s body. He misses the way his body takes over from his mind as his hips find the right driving rhythm to bring them both pleasure. It’s always been so much easier and more honest for him to communicate this way.

Adam brings it up when they’re lying together, sweaty skin beginning to cool and dry. What he really wants to do is shower and brush his teeth and go to sleep, but Nigel is always particularly malleable in the afterglow. He’s happy to give Adam whatever he asks for, if all the promises he’s made in post-coital bliss are anything to go by.

But this time Nigel just laughs, palms Adam’s ass, and presses a sloppy kiss to his shoulder. “That’s not going to happen, darling,” he says.

And that, Adam supposes, is that.

*

That, it turns out, is not that. 

Because Nigel can’t stop thinking about it. It keeps popping up at the most inconvenient moments, when he’s trying to fucking work, and suddenly all he can see is Adam’s expression, faintly disappointed, but accepting. Because fucking Adam, with his blind faith in Nigel, just trusts in everything he says, and takes it at face value.

Nigel has no fucking clue what he’s done to deserve this boy he’s somehow caught. He knows that someone as filthy and tarnished as he is, after years of wallowing in the gutter, has no right to even hope for someone as beautiful and pure as Adam, let alone have him to keep. That Adam chose him, fucking Nigel, knowing all about his sordid past...it’s almost beyond belief. 

And yet here they are, and all Adam fucking wants is to fuck him, and is it really so much to ask?

He gets to be sort of fucking obsessive about it, honestly. When he’s going down on Adam, licking inside him, between the spread of his fingers, and Adam’s moaning and writhing, fingers clutching his hair. When he’s fucking into that sweet, tight little body and Adam’s burying his cries in the pillow or against his fist, face twisted up in such exquisite pleasure. It rises up like a tendril of smoke in his mind and asks, _Would it be so bad?_

Then he shuts down that line of thinking tout fucking suite, because no way. No fucking way. He’s not a fag if no one’s putting anything up his ass, so no one's gonna put anything in his fucking ass. He can’t even fucking believe he’s entertaining the notion, even for a split second. Adam likes being fucked. Hell, the kid loves it. So what does it fucking matter?

And then that fucking traitorous voice comes whispering at him from the corner of his mind. _Is Adam a fag, for letting you fuck him? Is there something wrong with that, Nigel? Should he be ashamed?_ And Nigel scowls and grinds his cigarette out in the ashtray, and stalks right out of the card game he’s in, ignoring the raised voices calling out in question and the pile of cash he’s just forfeited.

He glares at himself in the mirrored surface of the elevator door, imagines his reflection coming to life, growling at him, “Are you seriously thinking about doing this?”

Is Nigel fucking beholden to what some ignorant, homophobic cunts think it says about his masculinity, to let someone fuck him? _Or,_ he thinks, squaring his shoulders and staring down his reflection, _am I man e-fucking-nough to be the guy Adam deserves?_

Fuck right he is.

It’s awkward, right from the word go. Adam is eager to please, laying Nigel out on the bed and sucking down his cock, getting him good and hard and distracted from what’s to come. But as soon as Nigel feels the first brush of lube-slick fingers behind his balls, his ass locks up tighter than goddamn Fort Knox. No amount of tender stroking of Adam’s fingers, or deep-throating is gonna open it back up.

“I don’t think it’s gonna work, babe,” Nigel tells him through gritted teeth, when Adam pushes one finger in to the first knuckle. He’s too gentle, unwilling to put any more force behind it, and it ain’t going any deeper. There’s a faint, stinging burn, but more than anything, it’s the deep, instinctual _wrongness_ that Nigel can’t fight.

“Not if you don’t relax,” Adam mumbles, around the head of his cock, and Nigel’s eyes roll back in his head in pleasure.

“How the fuck am I supposed to relax when you’re sticking your fucking fingers up my asshole?” Nigel rumbles.

He can’t see Adam’s face, but he can imagine the expression of annoyance, all the same. “The same way I do, when you do it to me,” he says, letting Nigel slip from between his lips altogether. Then his tone brightens. “I could use my tongue, instead.”

“No!” Nigel’s eyes fly open. “No, I don’t-- _Don’t_ do that.”

Adam stares at him, caught somewhere between surprise and dismay. “But you do it to me all the time,” he says, lips turning down at the sides. “It feels really nice, Nigel, you’ll see.”

Nigel reaches down and catches the wrist of the hand between his thighs, closing his fingers around it delicately. “It’s okay,” Adam says, studying his face. Nigel wonders what he sees, and how much of that he understands. Then Adam rises up on all fours and crawls up the length of his body. He sinks into the kiss Nigel arches up to give him.

“We don’t have to do it this way,” Adam murmurs against his mouth. He reaches down between them to wrap his slick fingers around Nigel’s cock and begins to pull.

Again, just like that, he lets it go. And Nigel really is stupidly relieved.

*

Nigel has been called many things in his life, but never a coward, and never a quitter. (At least not by anyone who survived the encounter). It means something to him to maintain that reputation, even if no one other than Adam and himself will ever know.

So, anyway, practice makes fucking perfect, right?

He does a private browser search on his phone for “gay sex.” The results are not particularly helpful, if somewhat arousing. There’s one kid who has features similar enough to Adam’s to be distracting for a time. Eventually, though he stumbles his way to a “how to” page, which is way more clinical and descriptive than he ever really needed to fucking read.

A metric fuck tonne of lube, but that goes without saying, time and patience, sure whatever. He’ll get right fucking on top of that while he’s fingering his goddamn ass. A dildo--and that isn’t going to fucking happen, so let’s just skip right over that. 

Nigel waits until Adam is at work and tries to get comfortable. Even knowing what he’s about to do, it doesn’t take much work to get it up. All he’s gotta do is think about Adam’s soft pink lips, wet and swollen from being wrapped around Nigel’s dick. About the way his face screws up with pleasure when Nigel fucks into him.

The problem is keeping up any fucking measure of enthusiasm when he pours a fucking gallon of lube over his fingers and starts reaching back there. The angle is weird and it pulls at his rotator cuff, and then there’s the actual sensation, which, when he’s doing it to himself doesn’t making his stomach clench up in anxiety, but isn’t fucking doing anything for him, either. 

It just feels fucking strange. He traces his finger around the bunch of muscles, just like he does for Adam. Adam usually squirms and begs for Nigel to stop teasing him and give him more. To Nigel, it mostly just tickles. Not only at the spot, but in sparks along the backs of his thighs like a shock. Makes him want to clamp his legs together. Makes him remember furtively jerking off in the shower as a teenager, of all the strange, fucked up things in the fucking world. 

He gives up after a few minutes and just jerks off idly for a while. Not enough to get himself off. He’d rather wait until Adam is around for that.

He keeps at it, though. Over the next several days. After a while, it doesn’t feel so strange, but it sure as fuck doesn’t do anything for him. The first finger is the worst. That initial resistance to having something foreign up his ass, and that same burn from when Adam touched him. The same resistance to anything more but the first knuckle. 

But Adam was worried about hurting him, and Nigel isn’t afraid of a little fucking pain--he’s been eviscerated, for fuck sake, and he’s freaking out over a fucking dick in his ass--so he just shoves it all the way in. For a minute it feels like his chest is going to burst open, before he remembers to breathe.

Once he gets use to that, it’s not so bad, adding a second. Pours a bunch of lube over his fingers and pushes it in. Two has him panting as he adjusts to the new stretch. He hangs his head and works through it. It’s not...bad. It’s not much of anything, really. Just a sensation of being uncomfortably full and that tickling of his nerves.

*

Adam figures that their failed experimentation is the last he’s heard of Nigel bottoming for him. He misses sex that way, but not enough to be very disappointed. Somehow Nigel’s mess fits so well in the order of Adam’s routine. Nigel is such an important part of his life now, he can’t imagine living without him, now. That isn’t a trade-off he’s willing to make, no matter his preference in bed. Besides that, what they do feels so good like it is.

So Adam doesn’t even really think about it again, until he comes into their room after showering, to find Nigel spread out on the bed with two shining fingers in his own ass. “Nigel,” he says, and stops. He stands at the foot of the bed, staring, uncomprehending.

“You know,” Nigel says, with a strained voice, “I think this would go more smoothly if you were to take over.”

His mind might need a moment to catch up, but Adam has learned to take what Nigel says at face value. He scrambles up onto the bed alongside Nigel, pours a handful of lube in his palm. “I thought you didn’t want to do it like this,” he says, almost breathless in his excitement.

“Just fucking do it, before I change my mind,” Nigel says, biting his bottom lip. Adam hesitates, fingers wet against his thigh, and Nigel lets out a curse. “It’s okay, Adam, just...just do it, okay, just--” he stops speaking when Adam does as he’s told, pushing a single finger in alongside Nigel’s.

Nigel slips his fingers free, raises his hands up over his head. The movement stretches out the long, lean line of him in a way that makes Adam’s mouth go dry. His dick jumps at the sight. “Is--is this okay?” he asks.

Nigel nods haltingly. “You can do more. Just--” He stops, inhaling sharply, when Adam finally finds what he’s been looking for. It’s different, trying to find it on someone else’s body, when he has only an academic understanding of its location. Nigel’s reaction is all the confirmation he needs, however. The way his eyes squeeze shut tight and his mouth falls open on a soundless cry.

“Is that okay?” Adam asks, mischievous. Nigel peeks open one eye to glare at him, and Adam rubs his fingertip over the spot again before Nigel can respond. He grins to himself, so very pleased to finally have the chance to show Nigel how good it can feel. His eyes are fixed on Nigel--the way his throat works as he swallows hard, the sweat that’s sprung up along his brow, the shifting of the muscles in his stomach and thighs as he works back on Adam’s finger.

“You,” Nigel finally pants out, “are an absolute spoiled brat.” _Mostly_ Adam takes what Nigel says at face value, but he’s also slowly begun to pick up on when he’s being teased. So instead of taking offense, Adam finds himself grinning as he leans in to suck kisses over the curve of Nigel’s hipbone. He purposefully avoids his dick, which grows harder by the second against his belly. 

When he adds a second finger, Nigel just wriggles impatiently and says, “Fuck, Adam, stop being so goddamn smug about it, and fuck me already.”

“I’m not being smug,” Adam says. “I’m happy to share this with you.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, you’re so--” Nigel reaches out for him and pulls him close by his shoulders, kissing him hard. “The shit you say.”

“Is it good?” Adam pants against his mouth.

Nigel chuckles, a throaty sound that makes Adam’s stomach flip. “Yes,” he says. “Whatever you’re asking, yes.” His hands scrape down Adam’s back and grab ahold of his ass, squeezing. “Come on and fuck me, darling.”

Adam reaches over for a condom from the nightstand and rolls it down his cock, slathers it even more lube, and squeezes some between Nigel’s legs. Something he learned very quickly about anal intercourse was there was never anything such as too much lubricant, even if it makes a mess and requires extra work to clean up. He smears it all around, dips it inside Nigel’s hole. He’s looser now, sucking Adam in, and his dick throbs in sympathetic anticipation.

Nigel draws in a breath and holds it, when Adam guides himself to his hole. He tightens up, just as he had the first time, and Adam draws a hand down his hip. Nigel breaths out through his nose and grits his teeth. Adam remembers his own first time, when Nigel did this to him. He'd been so nervous and frightened, but wanted so badly to please Nigel, and to find some enjoyment in it. How it turned out was so much better than he’d expected. 

He leans over to kiss Nigel, slow and deep until they lose themselves in it. Until Nigel is writhing again, legs sliding up the outside of Adam’s to wrap about his hips. He reaches down between them to guide Adam inside himself. 

The first few inches are excruciatingly slow, and it takes all Adam’s willpower not to give in to the urge to thrust in fast and deep. They breathe in and out together, Nigel’s face pressed against his collarbone. It doesn’t feel exactly like a woman. It’s tighter, and the angle is different, and there’s no soft padding of a woman’s thighs. Nigel’s scent is different, of course, his sweat thicker and muskier. 

In the end, it isn’t different in anyway that matters, though. He finally settles all the way inside, flush against Nigel’s ass, held in the vee of his thighs, wrapped in his arms. Adam kisses the skin beneath his lips, tasting the salty tang along Nigel’s temple, and Nigel lets out a sound he can’t interpret. 

Without even thinking about it, Adam begins to move, encouraged by the way Nigel’s fingers curl into his skin. “Fuck.” Nigel’s mouth drags up Adam’s chest, sucking hard enough to bruise when he pauses along the way. It only takes a few shallow thrusts before Nigel is rising to meet him. Adam ducks his head the same time Nigel lifts his, and they meet in a messy clash of teeth--Adam’s smiling too widely for it to be a proper kiss, but Nigel doesn’t complain.

“Oh, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good.” Nigel’s said the same thing when he’s been the one doing the fucking, but it’s different, the way his words are slurred. Something in Adam that he doesn't fully understand thrills at the words, pleasure rippling down his spine. He grabs Nigel by the hips and changes the angle to let him slide deeper, and drag along Nigel’s prostate with each thrust.

Nigel’s head falls back, mouth open on a low groan, and Adam can’t resist sucking at his pulse, knowing there will be a dark mark there, above the shadow of his tattoo. Nigel likes being marked, and Adam likes being allowed to do it. Adam isn’t the possessive sort, but he likes the idea of others knowing Nigel has someone at home. He likes knowing that Nigel trusts him enough to allow Adam to mark him, _take him_ , even if it isn’t meant possessively. Adam can uniquely appreciate the different between intent and perception. Which is why it means so much that Nigel is enjoying this.

And Nigel is enjoying it. His legs tremble, held tight around Adam’s hips. His heels dig into the dip just above Adam’s ass, spurring him on, gradually faster, and faster. His cock is hard, trapped between them. His lips part unashamedly on a stream curses and pleas and promises, in between the breathy grunts of exertion.

Adam hasn’t made love this way since way before he even met Nigel, and with the way Nigel clings to him, and the tight heat clenching around his cock, he’s so close already. He wants it to be good for Nigel--wants so badly for Nigel to want this again. He props himself up on one arm and reaches for Nigel’s cock, wraps his fingers around it tight and jerks him roughly, just how Nigel likes it, and Nigel’s nails score up his back.

“Fuck, Adam, you’re so good, darling,” he groans.

“You too, Nigel,” Adam says. His arm is shaking from the effort of holding himself up, and he’s so close, it almost _hurts_ to hold back any longer. “I don’t think I can--you feel so _nice_ , I have to come.”

Nigel’s hands are suddenly gentle on Adam’s back, soothing. “Go on,” he says, voice pitched low in the way he knows turns Adam on. “Let me see you.”

The words of permission are all Adam needs to go over the edge, driving deeper and deeper with each jerky pulse. He’s not sure which of them is more surprised when it’s his own halting movements, hand tight on Nigel’s dick, that makes Nigel come. The way he spasms on Adam’s cock makes Adam see stars behind his eyelids. It’s so good it’s almost too much. Nigel holds him close and tight, and Adam lets his weight rest over him. It always feels so good when Nigel does the same to him, holding him down.

Nigel cards his fingers through Adam’s hair. It’s a lovely sensation, the cool air on his sweaty skin. Adam needs another shower. But, he thinks, with a naughty grin, it was entirely worth it. Nigel must feel it where Adam’s face is tucked against his chest, because he asks, “Are you pleased with yourself, darling?”

Adam lifts his head, eyes fixing very briefly on Nigel’s, before settling on his brow, and he nods. “That was very nice.”

“Very nice,” Nigel parrots, and then scoffs. “Adam, darling, that was fucking mind-blowing.” Adam can feel his cheeks heating at the praise, and he ducks his chin, but Nigel’s hand darts out to catch him and guide his face back up to something approaching eye contact. “Ah-ah-ah. You don’t get to fuck someone like that then pretend to be all shy about it.”

“Does that mean--” Adam bites his bottom lip and slows down. “Does that mean you’d want to do it again?”

Nigel hums, twisting and stretching beneath him. The movement borders on discomfort, Adam’s cock still tucked inside him and oversensitive. Nigel stills at Adam’s expression, settling back against the sheets and palming his ass absently. “I think I could be persuaded to bring it into regular rotation.”

Adam sits up, unmindful in his excitement, and Nigel hisses as Adam slips free. He widens the splay of his hips and brings a hand between them to touch himself gingerly. “Sorry,” Adam says quickly. “You’re very red. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to kiss you there? It always feels so nice when you do it.”

“One thing at a time, darling,” Nigel murmurs. His hand is warm and rough splayed on Adam’s back, guiding him down for a kiss on the mouth instead. “One thing at a time.”


End file.
